Enantiodromia
by frutescence
Summary: There are some things that can only be said in the dead of night. Sterek. Oneshot. Written based on the prompt: "Let me be the one you run to."


_**Enantiodromia**_

**Some Sterek originally written for a friend based on this prompt: "_Let me be the one you run to." _**

* * *

There are some things you can only say in the middle of the night, when you're just laying peacefully with your partner, one of your hands in his hair, stroking it gently. Your partner's head lyingaid across your bare chest, lightly drawing circles on your stomach.

If you had told Derek Hale a year ago that he'd be in this position, he would have laughed at you. Scratch that, he'd be confused as to why you were even talking to him in the first place.

So much changes in a year that it's a wonder that most people fail to realize it. Those that do realize it rarely realize it for good reasons. Derek Hale was one of those people.

Derek and Stiles were lying silently on Stiles's bed; the only sounds heard being their deep breathing. They had been like this for nearly an hour now, just absorbing the presence of the other, seemingly content to lie with the other.

Derek broke the silence first, staring intently at the ceiling as he spoke.

"I wish I had gotten to say goodbye."  
Derek's words broke the silence, Derek staring intently at the ceiling as he said them.

Stiles flipped his head over on his elbow, his head lulling sideways to look at Derek. "Sorry?"

"I wish I had gotten to say goodbye." Derek repeated quietly.

It was one of those rare moments where Stiles was completely speechless. silent. Understanding what Derek meant, and being unable to fathom Derek's thoughts at the same time was a confusing moment. There was nothing to say.

"The worst moment wasn't when they died. When they _actually _died." He paused, craning his head up to look at Stiles, moving back on his elbows. "I felt that. Them dying. It was the single most painful thing I've ever experienced, like a massive rubber-band pulling you back, and then slinging you straight into a cement wall. It's like your insides being set on fire, and being frozen at the exact same time. And there is absolutely nothing either you or anyone else canould do to stop it. The only people who could stop it are now dead, and without that, you wouldn't be feeling it in the first placethe ones who have died."

Derek took a deep breath, his voice shuddering a bit. "The worst part was the waiting. I was at school. Laura burst into the classroom five minutes later. We didn't even have to look at each other." He let out a dry chuckle. "We both knew. No words had changed that. We went to the house. A truly awful decision. "

Stiles realized that Derek probably wasn't in control of what he was saying, they were too far deep in the memory now. "I'll never get that out of my head. The smell of burning, charred bodies, unable to be repaired or even _recovered. _The fire department was there, and even nearly an hour later they were still trying to get the flames under control."

"There was the hospital. The waiting rooms. The funerals. Leaving. Trying to make our way in another place, desperately trying to fit in. But we were waiting. And just when you think things might be getting somewhat okay-" His voice cut of suddenly, his eyes still staring straight ahead, now propped up on his elbows.

"Laura dieds." Derek says quietly. "Laura. The person who was always there, when everyone else wasn't, the dependable one, the one who always tried to assure me that, regardless of how things seemed, it would all get better. She would tell me that this wasn't my fault, that Kate, the fire, would have happened regardless of me. But that wasn't true. She was the only one to try to convince me of that.

"One day she's there, the next, gone. She's dead. I asked Peter why he did it, later on." Another pause, this one longer than any previously. "He couldn't even give me an answer. He just- did it. He feels no remorse, none at all. He killed his niece, his brother's daughter, and he couldn't have given less of a fuck." He paused. "I still remember her favorite song, the one she would play at least eight times a week. I can remember her favorite shirt. I remember her shitty, god-awful cooking. I've forgotten things about her too, though. I can't remember what it was like to hug her. I can't remember the conversations we used to have, brother-to-sister, back before Kate Argent and anything else ever happened. It's been, what, a year and a half? What kind of a shitty person does that? Who can just forget their family like that? "

Derek looked sharply at Stiles, his eyes, fixing hard and cold, fixing onto Stiles's. "Do you remember when you asked why I still lived in the house, destroyed nearly beyond repair? That shitty, piece of crap?"

Stiles nodded. Now was not the time to start talking, he understood. Derek had to get this out.

Derek continued. "I deserve it. I deserve to be uncomfortable and sometimes freezing and miserable and terrible. I deserve it. Nothing better. _They _didn't get any better. They died. They burned to death, trapped in the basement, crying to get out, to leave, for someone to come and save them. And for some misguided and terribly strange reason, I'm still here. And I'm not exactly sure why.

"Alphas are supposed to be older." Derek continued. "Laura was the youngest I've yet to see, and she was 18. I was 21. The youngest Alpha I've seen outside of our family was 37. Scott, Isaac, everyone. They think I can't hear what they say. They think I don't care about what they think. I'm not cut out for it. I was never meant to be an alpha. Maybe, it was supposed to be Laura. Maybe. But for some fucked up reason, it's me now." "

"They're all dead because of me. I made the biggesta mistake I could possibly have made with Kate. I thought we were Romeo and Juliet, when really we were Calypso and Odysseus, though I'm no hero. I blew off my family to be with her. I thought I had everything, anything anyone could ever want. But every up has a down. One day you're on top, and then suddenly everyone's dead and your suddenly the kid with the dead parents and you realize that you are completely and utterly alone."

"You're not." Stiles spoke up for the first time, Derek's eyebrows raisingrising. "I mean, yeah. You were. And that sucks. It's terrible. And I'm sorry. But you aren't." Stiles smiled. "Not anymore."

Stiles climbed over Derek's chest, his legs straddling Derek's hips. He leaned forward on his elbows, staring into Derek's eyes and whispering softly, words only heard between the two of them.

Stiles continued, watching as Derek gave him a small smile. "Let me be there. Let me be the one you run to when all else fails. When you feel like everyone's leaving you, call me. Stop by. Let me be the one you calhavel when shit hits the fan. Let me be there."

He leaned over Derek's ear, his words quiet and evenly space, speaking slowly as if that meant Derek would remember them better. "You. Are. Not. Alone. And you never will be, not again." _Not if I have anything to do with it. _

He pressed his lips softly to Derek's for a few seconds, and then pulled apart a couple of centimeters.

"I love you."

A quiet voice, smiled into Stiles's hair.

"I love you, too."


End file.
